


The sex that never happened

by YvonneSilver



Category: Leverage
Genre: Bondage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YvonneSilver/pseuds/YvonneSilver
Summary: What if Mikel and Eliot had sex the way they fought? They run into each other unexpectedly, and by reading subtle cues in each other's body language, they can already tell what kind of night they're in for. A shift in stance, an offered prop, and the scenario changes to fit their wishes. Will this too end with the two of them connecting, while a dozen bodies litter the ground around them?





	

Eliot had not expected to see Mikel Dayan again. She didn’t seem like the sedentary type, and he was always moving from one job to the next too. It was a miracle their paths had crossed more than once at all, and they’d both known to make the most of the one night they had together. Not that they’d said as much in words, but Eliot hadn’t been surprised when Mikel was gone in the morning.

Running into her again though, that was a surprise. He was on a supply run, grabbing some food and small necessities for the stake-out he was supposed to be holding, when they each turned into opposite ends of an aisle. Time seemed to slow down as they locked eyes across the lane. They dropped their gaze simultaneously, and Eliot knew she was drinking him in while he was sizing her up. He drew his gaze up her body. She looked as powerful as he remembered. She wore sturdy combat boots, black leggings, a short, dark-red flared skirt, a black tank top and a checkered red shirt. Her hair was gathered up in a tight ponytail high on her head.

Eliot huffed out a short breath and cracked his neck. He knew he might look a little disheveled compared to her, but she’d know that he’d be up to whatever dance she wanted to do. They’d wrestled before, and he was more than ready for another bout.

At the other side of the aisle, Mikel licked her lips, cracked her knuckles and rolled back her shoulders as Eliot intently followed her every movement. She turned sideways very slowly, and Eliot mirrored her, trying to figure out her intentions. Without breaking eye-contact, she reached into her shirt pocket, and pulled out a condom between her index and middle finger. She nodded her head sideways, a mischievous smile on her lips. His eyes darted to the door behind her. A supply closet.

His gaze snapped back to her, her plan clear to him now. Quick and dirty, he should’ve known. She would beckon him over, and he would follow her into that cramped space. There were very few doors that could withstand either of them, let alone the pair of them. He’d let her do the breaking and entering. Once they were more or less out of sight, all bets were off. The first kiss would be aggressive, hungry like they’d been starving for each other since the last time they laid hands on each other. They would tear at each other’s clothes like hungry animals, dropping them where they fell as they backed deeper into the room.

They would pull apart for a moment so that he could pull her tank top over her head, but when he would come forward to kiss her again she’d slam him into the shelves. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it now. And he’d let her impatiently rip off his belt, and pull down his pants. He would wrap his erection and she would step out of her miniskirt. Only then would he grab her by the shoulders, and push her backwards against the shelves in turn. With that support against her back, she’d use one free hand to wrap around the scaffolding and stabilize herself, and the other to guide him where he needed to go.

He had gotten so hard so fast, and she was already on top of him, moving with purposeful rhythm. It would be over almost before they even got started. Even as he would still be gasping for breath, his legs still wobbly, she would heave a deep breath, shake a stray hair out of her eyes, and grin at him like she’d just won a game. He would sag to the floor, and she’d be hitching up her leggings, stepping back into her skirt and fishing her shirt off the floor. Humming softly, pleased with what she’d gotten, she’d bend over him as he leaned against the wall, lightly kiss his cheek, and walk off. She would be out the door and out of his life no more than thirty minutes after he’d found her again. Something in this scenario needed to change.

 

* * *

Mikel grinned when she saw Eliot reach into his shopping basket. Of course he would bring in another variable. She hadn’t expected anything less from him. Last time, it had been the cuffs, so it was no surprise that this time he reached for rope. Already she started to visualize how that would change the situation.

The promise of bondage meant that they would slow down. She would wave him over, and he would stand guard as she carefully picked the lock to the storage area. They would get undressed for each other between the supply scaffolding. She would show off for him, rolling her hips as she lowered her leggings, arching her back as she pulled off her tank top. He would be deliberately slow, teasing her with inch after inch of more bare skin as he unbuttoned his shirt or lowered his jeans.

When they were down to their underwear, she would slip her brastraps off, and hold out her hands for him to bind. He had chosen good rope, thick and firm but not so rough as to chafe. Only once her wrists were securely tied would she throw her arms around his head and pull him in for the first kiss. He would wrap his arms around her, his warm hands firm against her spine, and dip her for the long, wet kiss, all the more passionate for the build-up it had. She would press her body against him, feeling his erection between them.

Then he’d lift her upright, duck out from underneath her arms and throw the loose end of the rope over the top shelf. He’d lift her up, raising her arms above her head until she stood with her back against the shelf, and tie her to the scaffolding like that. Only then would he let her kiss him again, as he reached behind her to undo her bra. He would go slow, kissing her neck, her breasts, her stomach, running his hands over her arms, her hips, her thighs.

He would take off her underwear, and take off his, but he wouldn’t give it to her yet. He would make her wait for it, going so slowly until she spat curses at him, rattling the shelf as she leant forward into his touch. When he eventually let her have him, she would wrap her hands around the rope and pull herself up, wrapping her legs around him so she could take back a little control as she finally rode him to her heart’s desire.

But Mikel didn’t like to wait. She was used to taking what she wanted, no hesitation. Maybe she could find a way to flip their roles…

 

* * *

 

Eliot should’ve known she would turn the tables on him. He’d started this escalation in the food aisle of all places. Mikel waggled the can of whipped cream, smiling victoriously at him. She was the one with the sweet tooth, which meant he would have to be the platter to serve it on. Eliot huffed to cover up his increased breathing.

Maybe this was a good thing. They’d have to find a hotel room if they were going for a more complicated scene. He would let her tie him to the bed, and she would cover strategic spots with cream. A best of both worlds, where she would be in control, but forced to take her time anyway. And there was a better chance that she would stay the night, and the possibility for a second round. There was also a non-zero chance she would leave him tied to the bed when the morning came. Perhaps that was a risk he would be willing to take.

He was just about to take the first step towards her when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Yo man, what’s the hold up? Ain’t no proper stake-out without microwave popcorn.”

He had only looked away a second. He looked back and she was gone.

“Dammit Hardison.”


End file.
